


If You Call For Me, I'll Come Running

by aschicca



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Jealous Eddie, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Well Stan is still dead sorry, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: “I’m sorry,” the voice on the other side of the phone said, and Eddie suddenly realized the man wasn’t Richie. “Richie is in the shower at the moment. I can tell him you called and have him call you back, if you give me your name…”After Derry, Eddie goes back to New York. When he finally admits to himself that he made a mistake, he immediately calls Richie. Someone else answers the phone…
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 215





	If You Call For Me, I'll Come Running

**Author's Note:**

> Watching a TV show recently, I saw a scene that made me go "imagine your OTP!". So I did. Everything that came after was, frankly, unexpected but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Hopefully you will too :)
> 
> As always, thank you to my friend and Beta, Piksa, for her cheerleading and her help. Love you, hon! Also, it goes without saying, but I own nothing but free time and stubborn bunnies that refuse to leave me alone.

Eddie made a mistake going back to New York, he could finally admit it. After surviving the final battle with a spider clown from space, after reconnecting with his childhood friends and proving to them, and especially to himself, how brave he could be; after seeing Richie again and suddenly remembering how it felt to have a beating heart and to be truly _alive_ , Eddie still packed his bags and went back. He went back to his life, to his job, to his house. He went back to Myra. 

The other Losers let themselves be changed by the experience. Beverly filed for a restraining order against her abusive husband, started divorce proceedings, and let Ben sweep her away on a boat trip; they adopted a dog and were disgustingly happy together, as well they should be.

Bill went back to find that the studio hired someone else to tweak his ending into some semblance of happiness that would, in their opinion, appeal to the general public, but he didn’t let himself be dispirited by it: He simply holed up in his house and started writing a new book. He decided to tell their story, the Losers’, and Eddie and the others readily gave Bill permission to do so when he asked. They all couldn’t wait to read it, even Richie, despite the fact that he kept ribbing Bill in the group chat about his inability to write a proper ending and Bill kept threatening to kill him off in the first chapter and be done with it.

Mike left Derry and embarked on a quest to see as much of the world as he could. He adamantly refused to settle in one place after being stuck in Derry his entire life for fear of forgetting too. He was currently sunbathing in Brazil and seemed to be happier than he’d ever been.

Richie finished his tour and then, on his last date, he went completely off script and came out as bisexual right there on stage. The shitstorm that followed only recently calmed down, and Richie was now writing his own material. His popularity, weirdly enough, was only increased by everything that happened to him since the unfortunate show he bombed the night Mike called from Derry.

Richie was fine, they were all fine. They were all moving forward, full of new hope and new projects.

And Eddie… Eddie fucked it all up and went back to his old life.

*

Myra was sleeping peacefully. Eddie had taken to spending most of his evenings in his study and only coming to bed when he knew his wife would be fast asleep. Their interactions nowadays were polite and distant, and Eddie would be hard pressed to remember anything that came out of Myra’s mouth when she spoke to him. He nodded, faked smiles, and simply didn’t listen to her.

In a completely unforeseen turn of events, this new docile side of Eddie – who had previously loudly argued with his wife about everything, kicking and screaming before ultimately giving in to her demands – pleased Myra so much that she stopped pestering him for details about Derry and Eddie’s friends. All of this, in turn, allowed Eddie some peace and quiet.

She slept that night, curled on one side with a hand under the pillow, and Eddie looked at her from his position at the foot of the bed and thought, _“I can’t do this anymore.”_

She wasn’t a bad person, and Eddie knew he’d let himself be taken care of by her bulldozing ways because he’d wanted something familiar. The devil you know, in a way. He’d been an accomplice in this and it wouldn’t be fair now to blame everything on Myra. 

Myra, who loved that Eddie was ‘delicate’ so she could take care of him. Myra, who expected Eddie to say that he loved her and demanded he do so even when he wasn’t feeling like it – even if he wasn’t sure that he did love her. Myra, who fussed and fretted over Eddie and never shied away from telling him that he would be lost without her. 

_And who could ever love you better than me, Eddie Bear?_

This was a mistake. It always had been. Eddie should have never married an only slightly better copy of his own mother to begin with, but coming back to her even after he knew the man he could be if only he let himself? That turned out to be the biggest mistake of his life.  
Eddie needed to get out; he needed to leave: Leave his wife, leave the house they’d shared and that he’d never felt like his own, maybe even leave New York.

With a new certainty and a determination he didn’t remember feeling since he’d thrown a fencepost at a giant spider-clown (and almost got skewered himself,) Eddie turned around and went back to his studio. 

He grabbed his cell phone and stood in front of the window. While the phone rang, Eddie started smiling, anticipating the voice that would answer him, and he shivered imagining the laugh that would surely greet Eddie’s declaration.

“Hello?” Eddie heard, and he didn’t give the other time to say more.

“Richie, hey. I’m sorry it’s late, man, but I couldn’t wait. I think… Richie, I think I made a mistake. No, I know. I know I did. I made a mistake and…” 

Eddie’s tirade was interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” the voice on the other side of the phone said, and Eddie suddenly realized the man wasn’t Richie. “Richie is in the shower at the moment. I can tell him you called and have him call you back, if you give me your name…”

“Oh… I’m… Well…” Eddie stuttered, and so did his thoughts. Shit, of course Richie wasn’t alone, how stupid of Eddie to think he would be. Richie was handsome, moderately famous, and single – though maybe not that anymore – and he had every right to company. 

Eddie debated whether to leave his name and have this guy tell Richie to call him back but… Was it really worth it? Who was this man who answered Richie’s phone while he was in the shower? Was he a friend? Was he Richie’s boyfriend? Did Eddie really want to know?

And what was Eddie doing, calling Richie at night? To tell him what? ‘Rich, I’m leaving my wife because she’s suffocating me with how much she wants to take care of me, and I was thinking maybe you’d like the job instead?’ Or worse yet, ‘Richie, I realized I was a stupid asshole and, instead of keep being as brave as you think I am and finally tell you how I feel about you, I ran back to my wife with my tail between my legs. But now I don’t want to be here anymore… Please, please, will you have me?’

Eddie couldn’t do that. What good would that do? Besides, did Eddie truly need others to take care of him? Why was he on the phone in the first place? He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand while he manned up and left his wife! 

Why would he need Richie?

Decidedly ignoring the inner voice that kept repeating that he knew perfectly well _why_ he called Richie and why he needed him, Eddie finally made himself answer the man on the phone.

“No, thank you. No need to relay any message,” he said, and hung up not giving Richie’s _boyfriend_ the time to say anything else.

*

Months passed. Eddie moved out of the house, filed for divorce, and never told Richie about the missed phone call. Richie didn’t mention it, either, and Eddie didn’t see the point in bringing it up since the guy who’d answered him obviously hadn’t; and if Eddie sneakily started to stalk Richie’s social media to see if he could find a picture of this boyfriend – not that Richie ever copped up to having one, either publicly or just in the Losers group chat – he didn’t think he had anything to feel guilty about.

The not knowing, however, was eating him up inside. Eddie both dreaded the day Richie would finally decide to talk about his new relationship and maybe even introduce his boyfriend to the Losers, and hated the thought that Richie felt like he couldn’t share his news with them. With Eddie. Even if no one else among their friends even hinted at the possibility that Richie was in a relationship, Eddie knew. He had spoken to the man himself after all. Why wasn’t Richie saying anything about it? What was he waiting for? This was torture for Eddie.

The mere idea of having to smile and pretend his heart wasn’t breaking when he would meet Richie’s man filled Eddie with unease, but at the same time he _wanted_ the moment to come so he could get it out of the way and start moving on. Or at least try to.

When Richie got the Losers tickets for the first show he wrote by himself after he came out, everyone readily accepted. They sat in their reserved seats in the front row, clapping, cheering, and laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, and witnessed Richie’s success with pride and joy.

Eddie was so happy for Richie that he resolved not to be weird when, inevitably, he would see his boyfriend backstage and be introduced. There was no way this guy would miss Richie’s big night, and Eddie knew the time had come for him to confront the reality of Richie’s relationship.

Eddie walked backstage along with the others, chatting with Mike and giggling when Bill and Ben re-enacted one of Richie’s bits about their childhood; he was so absorbed in his friends that, at first, he didn’t realize how many people were surrounding Richie.

The Losers stopped to look from a few feet away and Eddie took in the scene: Richie was laughing, his head thrown back and his shoulders shaking, and he was in the middle of a small group of enthralled people that seemed to know him very well, and be quite friendly with him.

Richie had his arm around a black-haired woman’s shoulders and she looked up at him with a fond smile while a guy who was almost as tall as Richie gesticulated wildly; whatever he was saying was the cause of Richie’s laugh. Two other women were within touching distance from Richie – and they were, in fact, touching him, – and a few other people stood close to him and shouted congratulations, laughed with him, or stopped to pat his back.

The sight wasn’t surprising. Richie had always been charismatic and, once Bowers and his gang were finally out of commission and the Losers that were still in Derry started high school, other people finally realized it, too. Richie was genuinely funny and, as soon as he’d been free to express himself to the fullest, it wasn’t difficult for him to be able to polarize attention and gather a following. He hadn’t been truly popular in high school, but only by choice because he was still more interested in hanging out with his Losers; still he’d had quite the reputation and had been invited to many parties. Eddie knew that, had Richie wanted to, had he put in the effort to mingle with the ‘right’ crowd, he would have been the center of attention back then just as he was now.

Still, Eddie felt his heart constrict watching the scene in front of his eyes: Richie was surrounded by people and he looked happy. The thought that, in the end, Richie didn’t need them, the Losers, that he didn’t need _Eddie_ and he could easily move on with his life was like a punch in the gut. Richie wasn’t alone, not like Eddie was, and that pleased Eddie as much as it tore him up inside.

Eddie felt Beverly’s hand grasp his but before he could turn towards her to smile and pretend everything was fine, the black haired woman beside Richie looked at them, cocked her head, then leaned up to whisper something in Richie’s ear. Richie’s eyes immediately zeroed in on Eddie and the others, and a beautiful smile lit up his whole face.

“There you are!” Richie yelled and then, surprising everyone, he grabbed the woman’s hand and walked towards them. The abandoned crowd at Richie’s back looked on for a moment before quickly dispersing.

“Who is that?” Eddie heard Mike ask, and by the corner of his eye he saw Ben shrug and Bill cock his head in thought.

When Richie was close enough, Beverly released Eddie’s hand and went to hug him. He held her and nodded while she whispered something in his ear; then Bev stepped away and, in her usual fashion, she smiled at the woman and demanded that Richie introduced them.

Richie laughed, and the woman at his side spoke for him. “I’m Bridget, Richie’s little sister,” she said with a smile, and Bill gasped.

“Holy shit, Bridge? I c-c-can’t believe it!” 

“Hi, Billy,” she greeted, and accepted Bill’s hug. Ben followed suit, apologizing for not recognizing her. She replied that Ben, Mike, and Beverly had only met her a couple of times so they couldn’t be expected to remember. 

Bridget then turned towards Eddie. “Good to see you again, Eds,” she said, and Eddie glared at Richie making him giggle. 

Still, he approached Richie’s sister and offered her a hug. “It’s Eddie, actually,” he couldn’t help but saying.

“Awww come on, don’t be like that, Eduardo!” Richie grinned.

“Not my name, either.”

Bridget laughed. “Lost cause, Eddie, believe me. Also, I don’t think Eds is so bad. Didn’t Richie use to call you some variation of a pasta dish, too? Ravioli or something? That has to be worse…”

As soon as Bridget said ‘ravioli’, Richie doubled over laughing his ass off and Eddie glared with the force of a thousand suns when he mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “filling” and the others also started chuckling.

Bridget smiled, a bit puzzled. “What did I say?”

“It’s _Spaghetti_ , mom.” A girl that couldn’t be more than twelve years old said from behind Bridget, and everyone turned to look at her.

“Em&M’s! How’s my favourite candy?” Richie yelled, and the kid smiled adoringly up at him.

“Hi, uncle Richie,” she grinned. “I liked the show. You were funny. Well done!” She offered, and Richie blushed and bowed his head in thanks. It was obvious how pleased he was by the girl’s praise.

“This is Emma,” Bridget said to the Losers, and everyone greeted her. “She’s my daughter and she’s Richie’s number one fan. No accounting for taste, am I right?”

“Hey!” Richie complained, and both Bridget and Emma laughed.

Eddie found himself studying the little girl and he was surprised by just how much she reminded him of Richie. She was thin, tall for a girl her age, had long, black curls, and wore round, stylish glasses that adorably framed her brown eyes. Her smile was bright and she laughed with abandon, just like Richie always did.

“Hi everyone,” Emma greeted. “So cool to finally meet the Losers! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hello, Emma,” Beverly replied. “It’s so very good to meet you, too. But I wouldn’t believe everything that comes out of your uncle’s mouth.”

Richie let out another outraged noise. “Oh please, keep trashing the Trashmouth. Don’t mind me!”

“Do we ever?” Eddie grinned, and Bill laughed out loud.

“Not you, too, Spagheds!” Richie brought a hand to his heart and put on a pained expression. “I’ll never recover…”

“No, but really, Emma,” Mike said. “I don’t know what stories Richie has been telling you, but you should know that there’s his side, and then there’s the truth.”

Emma giggled. “You’re exactly as he described, actually.”

“Oh, r-r-really? And what did he say?” Bill asked.

Emma paused, looked up at Richie for a second, then made to speak but Richie interrupted.

“Isn’t it time for bed, Em&M’s? Bridge? Doesn’t your daughter need to be in bed like now? Like five minutes ago? Isn’t this…”

“Breathe, uncle Rich,” Emma said, cocking her head, and the tone of her voice made everyone laugh. 

Eddie realized that some sort of silent conversation went on between Richie and his niece because after a while Richie’s shoulders relaxed a fraction and Emma smiled.

“So,” she started again. “Uncle Richie said you’re his best friends, and you always have been. Stan was the first, and he still is even if he’s not with us anymore.” Emma paused, and everyone nodded. “There’s only one girl in your group but that’s because no other girl could ever be cool enough to hang out with a bunch of losers by choice. Uncle Richie said you chose them, Beverly, and that they’ll always be yours because of it.”

Beverly’s eyes watered a bit, and she smiled. “You’re a sap,” she told Richie, and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Shut up, you love it,” Richie said.

“We do, Trashmouth,” Ben smiled, and Richie swooned.

“You hear that, Bev? He loves me. _Me_! Oh Handsome Hanscom, come here and sweep me off my feet…”

Ben laughed. “Yeah, I take that back.”

The entire group laughed and Emma waited for them to calm down before continuing. Eddie couldn’t wait to hear what else she had to say.

“Uncle Richie said he has a nickname for all of you and that yours is Molly Ringwald, Beverly,” Emma said, and Beverly rolled her eyes. “I asked why, and uncle Richie made me marathon _Sixteen Candles_ , _Pretty in Pink_ , and _The Breakfast Club_ with him one night. I’m never asking for an explanation again!”

“What?” Richie yelled. “You loved it!”

“No, uncle Rich. _You_ loved it. You even cried a few times…”

“Why, you little…” Richie bent down and started tickling Emma’s sides making her scream a laugh. 

When Richie ceased his attack, Emma leaned against her uncle’s side to catch her breath and he caressed her hair fondly. Eddie felt his heart burst witnessing just how much Richie loved that little girl.

“Okay,” Emma started again once she calmed down. “Nicknames. He’s Big Bill,” Emma said, pointing to Bill. “He’s a writer, and uncle Richie said that one day he will write a good ending and then the _world_ will end, but it’ll be worth it.”

“K-k-killing you in the first chapter,” Bill hissed. “You just wait.”

Richie beamed and clapped Emma’s back for a job well done.

“You’re Haystack,” Emma said to Ben. “And uncle Richie said you’re an architect and a sweetheart. Uncle Richie also said something about a Brazilian soccer player but refused to explain himself. And after movie night, I didn’t insist.”

Ben blushed, and Beverly let out a very un-ladylike laugh patting his arm. Emma grinned up at Richie who winked at her, and then she looked at Mike.

“You’re Micycle, and you’re a librarian and the best man in the world. Also, you’re the keeper of the memories, and I don’t know what that means but it makes uncle Richie look sad so I decided never to ask.”

Mike extended a hand and grasped Richie’s arm and the two exchanged a smile. 

When Emma turned to him, Eddie saw Richie tense up again and it puzzled him. Why didn’t Richie want his niece to tell Eddie what he said about him? Was it bad?

“He’s Eddie Spaghetti, mom, not ravioli,” Emma said in the end, pointing at Eddie. 

“That’s not my name,” Eddie felt the need to point out, and both Emma and Richie looked at him with an expression that clearly read, ‘it’s so cute that you think that.’ The little girl then continued, not acknowledging Eddie’s complaint.

“Uncle Richie said that you’re the fun police, but instead of a gun you wear a fanny pack,” Emma said.

There was a moment of silence, and then everyone started laughing. Richie let out a contagious hiccupping laugh, and it took over his whole body: shoulders shaking, legs kicking, hands clapping, and tears in his eyes. He was definitely a sight.

Eddie tried to suppress a smile as much as he could but in the end he chuckled along with Richie and the others. Still, when everybody calmed down, Eddie glared at Richie.

“You’re an asshole, Richie!”

Richie immediately closed the distance between himself and Eddie and tried to hug him but Eddie dodged his attempt and kept him at arm’s length. He was still glaring.

“Awwww, Eduardo. Don’t be like that! The kid didn’t mean it. Look, you’re making her sad. She didn’t know you were so sensitive…”

“I’m not angry at _her_ , dipshit!” Eddie slapped Richie’s arm, and rolled his eyes when he pretended to be grievously hurt by it. 

“Eds, really, you should try not to swear in front of a minor…” Richie whispered, and for a second Eddie worried. 

He looked at Bridget, ready to apologize, but she was giggling so Eddie looked back at Richie and scowled. “You’re so full of it! Your niece gets exposed to _you_ all the time, and she’s even allowed to sit at one of your shows, but one curse word from me is gonna scar her for life, right Richie? You talked about your dick on that stage not even 20 minutes ago!”

Richie’s eyes lit up. “You liked that? Was it impressive? Because if not, I have something else that might impress you, Eds. It certainly impressed your mom!”

Eddie elbowed him in the stomach.

“Oh my god…Beep Beep!” Beverly groaned. “Please stop. Emma might not be fazed by all this, but we are. I am!”

“Aww, Bevvie, you wanna see it too? We can make a quick run to my dressing room, if you want.”

“Quick is right,” Eddie deadpanned, and Richie turned back towards him and clapped his hands.

“Eds gets off a good one!”

“Okay,” Bridget said, still giggling a bit. “I do think it’s time for me and Emma to leave now, Richie. I’m sure Sam’s about to tear his hair out. Sam’s my husband,” she explained to the Losers. “I left him at home with Graham, our 8 month old, because Emma wanted to be here to cheer for her uncle, but we’ve been having troubles getting the little one to sleep so I’m sure Sam’s itching for me to come home and help out with that.”

Emma groaned. “Remind me again, why did you need another baby, mom?” The grown-ups laughed and Emma sighed. “Uncle Richie, you sure I can’t come live with you? Just until Graham’s like, I don’t know, 21?”

Richie laughed. “Tell you what, Em&M’s. You know I have a full week ahead after this show, but next weekend is free and if it’s cool with your mom you can come stay with me then.” Richie looked at Bridget who smiled, nodding. “What do you say, deal?”

Emma whooped and launched herself at Richie who immediately picked her up. She hugged him around the shoulders and hooked her legs behind his back, and Richie held her. The smile on his face was so sweet and fond that, not for the first time that night, Eddie felt his heart melt. 

After Emma and Bridget said their goodbyes, Richie asked the Losers to wait for him outside so he could change quickly in his dressing room before going out for celebratory drinks with them. They all agreed and moved towards the exit, but Eddie couldn’t resist glancing back at Richie one last time and what he saw caught his breath in his throat.

A smartly dressed, handsome man who was about Eddie’s height approached Richie and put his hands on his chest. Richie smiled down at him and said something that had the other man laugh. The man then got on tiptoes to whisper something in Richie’s ear that made Richie sigh and nod. They hugged, briefly but in a way that screamed closeness and familiarity to Eddie, and then the man left and Richie entered the dressing room.

“Eddie?” Mike called. “You coming?”

Eddie turned towards his friend and his expression obviously tipped Mike off that something was wrong because he instantly moved to Eddie’s side.

“What is it? You okay?”

Eddie nodded without replying, but the look on Mike’s face told him his friend wouldn’t be satisfied with that so he sighed. “Fine, Mikey, thank you.”

“Eddie. Talk to me.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “It’s just hard sometimes.”

“What is?”

“All of this,” Eddie opened his eyes again and gestured to the room at large. “Seeing this. The way things change, the way he… Seeing Richie and… It’s just hard.”

Mike put an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulled him against his side. “It doesn’t have to be. It can be really easy, Eds.”

“How?”

“Most things truly are as easy as we want them to be. As easy as we make them. Sometimes, all it takes is talking to someone, explaining our point of view and listening to theirs. That’s all we need to do to make things better. Talk, Eddie,” Mike smiled softly.

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, unsure and mildly curious to find out what was about to come out of it because god knew he really had no idea, but Richie came out of the dressing room and saw them standing there.

“Aww, you guys didn’t need to wait for me here,” he grinned, visibly happy to see Eddie and Mike still there. Then something he read on their faces caught Richie’s attention because he became instantly serious. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay, Eds?”

Richie moved towards them and Eddie knew he was about to try and touch him in some way, maybe even take Mike’s place and hug Eddie to his side. Eddie didn’t think he could stand it right then, so he took a step back and put on an annoyed expression.

“It just took you so fucking long to come out of that dressing room that we came back to make sure you were still alive, Richie,” he scowled.

Richie looked startled and Eddie saw him glance at Mike for a second, but luckily he decided to take the bait. “You were worried about me!” He yelled, gleefully. “You missed my company so much that you had to come wait for me outside my door! Why, Spaghetti Man, I do declare you love me!”

Grateful for the reprieve but still reeling from the onslaught of emotions he just experienced, Eddie threw his hands in the air, turned, and marched towards the exit. Mike’s and Richie’s laughs accompanied his retreat and Eddie tried to breathe.

*

The rest of the night was difficult to navigate. Eddie was still distracted by his own feelings and he missed several cues that Richie threw his way and that usually would see them banter for ages. His behavior concerned the Losers and downright distressed Richie; he became increasingly agitated and this, in turn, caused Eddie’s anxiety to spike up. Despite the fact that Mike tried to run interference, take the spotlight off Eddie and calm Richie down, by the time they separated to go back to their hotel rooms Eddie was truly on edge.

Everyone’s flight wasn’t until late the following day, and Richie didn’t have any fixed engagements until the evening, so the group decided to meet again for breakfast. After saying a quick goodnight to Richie and Bill who went back to their houses, Eddie only had to dodge Beverly’s concerned look before he was safely behind the door of his room.

Resolutely refusing to dwell on everything that happened that night, ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt at having upset Richie, and especially forbidding himself to think about the glimpse of Richie and his boyfriend together he caught earlier, Eddie carefully folded his clothes and put them in a zip-lock bag, then brought his silk pajamas and a change of underwear to the bathroom with him and took a quick shower.

He was in the middle of his nightly skincare routine when he heard a knock. For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of pretending to be already asleep and not having heard but whoever was at the door knocked again and, sighing, Eddie went to open.

“Richie?” 

“Yes, sorry, I… Look, can I come in?” 

Eddie wasn’t quick enough to think of an excuse not to have Richie come in so he simply moved away from the door and let him pass. 

Richie took in the room then looked back at Eddie and blushed a bit. Suddenly aware that he was naked from the waist up, Eddie rushed inside the bathroom to retrieve the top of the pajama and covered himself up. He came out, still buttoning his shirt, and saw that Richie was standing in front of the window and had his back to Eddie.

Eddie took a moment to appreciate his figure, from his broad shoulders to his long legs, and refused to acknowledge just how much warmer the room felt now that Richie was inside it with him.

“Richie? Was there something…”

“Did I do something wrong?” Richie asked, without turning to face Eddie.

“What? No, I… Why would you think that?”

Richie sighed. “I don’t know!” His shoulder slumped and he fisted a hand in his hair. 

“Look at me?” Eddie asked, torn between not wanting to discuss the evening with Richie and not being willing to keep Richie experiencing distress for something that wasn’t his fault.

Richie faced Eddie. “I thought things were going well, but afterwards at the pub you didn’t... I thought… You seemed to enjoy the show, and you looked… But maybe I didn’t… Did I say something on stage that made you…”

“No! Richie, you were good. So good! Okay? Look, don’t make me compliment you, you know it gives me a rash!” Eddie joked, heart clenching at the thought that Richie believed he hadn’t liked his stand-up.

Richie smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Rich. One more word from me about how fucking great you were up there tonight and I’ll break out in hives.”

Richie bowed his head, but Eddie could tell he was pleased both by the compliment and the joke.

“But something did happen, Eds,” Richie said after a while. “At some point you… Wait, was it Emma? Because she talked about your nickname and the fanny pack… Were you…”

“Richie, your niece is adorable. She’s just one step away from being a mini-you and, as frightening a thought as that is,” Eddie accompanied the words with a full body shudder that made Richie beam, “she is a wonderful kid. Nothing she said could make me angry. Come on, you know me better than that!”

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Richie’s expression was full of love for his niece, and it made Eddie smile. “I wasn’t there for the first 6 years of her life. Bridge and I fell out a bit and I… Well, anyway, I met Emma when she was 6 years old and I don’t know. One look at her and my heart was gone. Instant connection and all that.”

“Yeah, well, you were the same age back then. Possibly still are.”

Richie chuckled. “Good one, Eds. Emma, she… she’s funny and smart, man, and so fucking perceptive.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Eddie nodded at Richie and saw him blush. “She obviously worships the ground you walk on and it is sort of worrying…”

Richie took on an expression of mock offence. “What on Earth can you mean?” He said, in a Victorian Voice. “I do demand you explain your meaning, sir!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Not the Voices at this time of night. I can’t take it.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Richie winked.

Eddie marched towards the door and opened it. “Out. Now.”

“Nooooo! Eddie my love, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” Richie clasped his hands in prayer and widened his eyes in a puppy-like expression.

Eddie sighed, closed the door, and leaned against it. “It’s late, Rich…”

Richie sobered up. “I know. Sorry, I just… Something _was_ wrong with you tonight, and I can’t… Eddie, what was it? Please?”

“Rich…”

“No. You and Mike. Why were you in the hall outside my dressing room? Why was Mike hugging you? What happened? If someone did or said something to you, I want to know!”

“Why? Do you want to beat them up?” Eddie couldn’t help saying, and smiled when Richie’s eyes sparkled.

“Beat them to a pulp. And if there’s an axe lying around, well, we both know I’m handy with those.”

Eddie laughed. “Better make sure there’s a trashcan around too so you don’t have to vomit all over the floor. Again.”

“Worth the fuck out of it,” Richie said, and Eddie nodded.

“Well, put your axe murdering plans back in the box, Richie. Nothing happened. No one said anything. Everyone’s in the clear.”

“Eddie..”

“What, Richie? Come on. I said it’s okay, can’t you just leave it?”

“No, I can’t!”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because!”

“Because? What sort of stupid answer is that? Because?? Fucking because?”

“Is it weird that I find it sexy to hear you bitch at a single, unassuming word? _Because??_ ” Richie mimicked, affecting Eddie’s outraged tone. “Hot as fuck.”

Eddie felt his face redden. “Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?”

“Nope,” Richie popped the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Just you, Spagheds.”

“Do not fucking call me that. Why don’t you go to your boyfriend? I’m sure he’s better equipped to deal with you.” Eddie barely resisted the urge to cover his mouth with a hand as soon as the words left his mouth.

Richie’s own mouth went comically slack and his eyes widened behind his glasses. “My who-what, now?”

“Your _boyfriend_ ,” Eddie spat, apparently having decided to abandon any reserve about breaching the subject with Richie.

“I don’t… have a boyfriend?”

“Is that a question? Don’t you know that you have a boyfriend?”

“I really, really don’t,” Richie said, and he sounded so sincerely baffled that Eddie paused. Still, he had to be lying. Eddie had spoken with the guy months before and he’d seen him at the theatre tonight. Why was Richie lying? The thought angered Eddie.

“What the fuck? Why would you say that? Why would you want to keep it a secret, keep him hidden? I’m fucking pissed that you didn’t talk to me about him, Rich! I can’t believe you went so long without telling me, or the other Losers, about this guy! What? Did you think we wouldn’t be supportive? Me? Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?”

Eddie spat all that to an increasingly dumbfounded-looking Richie and tried not to think about the fact that he was a fucking hypocrite: He was glad Richie didn’t confide in him about the guy he was in love with. Eddie _would_ have been supportive to his face, of course, but everything he wanted was for Richie to dump his boyfriend and fall in love with _him_. Still, that was beside the point.

“O-kay,” Richie put his hands up. “Is this an episode of the Twilight Zone? Are we actually… Shit! Are you the clown?”

“What the fuck? No, I’m not the clown, dickwad! The clown is dead!”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t hurt to check…” Richie shrugged.

“Is that all you have to say? Really?”

Richie looked at a loss. “I don’t know what you _want_ me to say! I tell you I don’t have a boyfriend, and you go on a rant about how disappointed you are that I didn’t come talk to you about this non-existent guy! This is crazy even for us, Eddie!”

“But you _do_ have a boyfriend!” Eddie yelled.

Richie threw his arms up in the air in obvious frustration. “What the fuck?!” 

“Why are you denying it? I talked to him! Hell, I _saw_ him!”

Richie looked astonished. “You saw him? How… What… Okay, so next time you see this guy, can you tell him to call me? You see, he hasn’t put out in a while and my hand is getting tired.” Richie mimicked a lewd movement with his hand and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Gross! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Masturbation? Spanking the monkey? Whacking the one-eyed weasel? Talking about self-loving here, Eds. I suppose even you know about that by now.”

“Oh my god, do you ever stop?”

“What, jerking off? Well, you see, when you DO NOT have a fucking boyfriend, self-gratification it’s all there is!”

Eddie felt like screaming. Why was Richie doing this? Eddie didn’t understand. Was everything always a stupid joke to him?

Richie seemed to realize that Eddie was nearing the end of his rope because he sighed, passed a hand through his hair, and spoke calmly.

“You said you talked to this supposed boyfriend of mine. That you even saw him. Alright. Tell me when?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Tonight. I saw him tonight.”

“Ton… what? Tonight? Where?”

“For fuck’s sake, Richie! Outside your dressing room! Shorter than you, not bad looking, put his hands on you and whispered in your ear. Are you done playing stupid?”

Richie’s face closed in thought. “Outside my dressing… Put his hands on… Wait, do you mean _Steve_?”

“How the fuck do I know? Is that your boyfriend’s name?”

“No, dickhead. That’s my _agent’s_ name. Steve? About this high,” Richie mimed, pointing at his shoulder, “Thin, brown hair, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit?”

Eddie nodded, doubt creeping in his mind for the first time.

“Yeah, that’s Steve. My agent. He’s not my boyfriend, Eddie, the guy is married. He’s ten years younger than me and still acts as if I’m his little kid. Makes sense, I mean, I’m me, but still… _Not_ my boyfriend. Wait, you said you spoke to him, did he tell you he was my boyfriend?” 

“No, I… He…We didn’t talk tonight. I just… On the phone…” Eddie babbled.

“On the phone? What the fuck… Eds, be honest with me. You’re definitely not the clown, right?”

“Oh for the love of… Again? Why would I be the fucking clown? It doesn’t make any sense!”

Richie raised his hands in surrender. “In fairness, Eds? Nothing about this conversation is making any fucking sense.”

And yes, okay, Richie had a point. It was also slightly possible that Eddie had misunderstood and simply invented a boyfriend that had never been there. Maybe. It was a development actually worth exploring.

“A few months back,” Eddie started, moving away from the door and walking towards Richie. “The night I decided I had enough and wanted to leave Myra, I… Well, I called you…”

“You… You did? But I… I didn’t know. I never…”

“No, I know. Your boyf… Uh… A man answered the phone and told me you were in the shower. He did ask me to leave a message but I…” Eddie trailed off, shrugging.

“Oh. Oh, I… Uhm… I don’t… know who that was. Could’ve been Steve, or maybe… Yeah, so…” Richie was visibly embarrassed, one hand scratching the back of his neck, and the other moving up and down as if he couldn’t help but physically release his tension in some way. 

Eddie felt instantly guilty at being the cause of all that. “You don’t need to justify yourself to me, Rich. You say you don’t have a boyfriend so… So that guy wasn’t. Your boyfriend, I mean. Maybe it was your agent, but even if he was just a casual hook-up you don’t need to… It’s perfectly normal, you have every right…”

“Yeah, yeah, that. Right,” Richie looked down for a moment before returning his eyes to Eddie’s flushed face. “Still, I’m sorry I didn’t answer. If I had, I would have… You know I would have… Ehm… Sorry I wasn’t there for you that night. I should have been… I would have wanted to be…”

“Rich…” Eddie moved and took the hand that Richie was still shaking in the air in his own. “It’s okay. If someone needs to apologize, it’s me.”

Richie interlocked their fingers. “You don’t have to apologize for calling me! I’m happy you did. I _want_ you to call me.”

“No, I… I mean for the whole boyfriend thing…”

“Ah. Yeah, you seemed pretty worked up about it, Eds. Can I… Could you…” Richie shook his head and refused to say more.

Eddie decided it was time to finally start being brave. After all, as Mike said, things are only as easy as we make them, so Eddie decided to make this easy on himself. He took the leap.

“I think I was jealous. No. I know. I was jealous,” he said, and Richie stopped breathing.

“You…” The word seemed to be punched out directly off Richie’s chest, and Eddie smiled.

“Yeah, me.”

“Jealous of… me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, dipshit. Who else is there?”

“Me?” Richie asked again, disbelieving. “Eddie… I don’t…”

“Richie, I left my wife and the first thing I did was call you. Hell, I called you even before I told her I was leaving. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to hear your voice, I wanted… you. When that man answered I… Shit, I hated him. And I hated feeling like that because if you’d found someone who made you happy then I should be happy for you,” Eddie used his hold on Richie’s hand to pull him closer. “But I couldn’t be. I couldn’t because… I wanted to be the one to make you happy. It’s what I’ve always wanted…”

Richie stepped even closer until he could lower his head and rest his forehead against Eddie’s.

“Eds, be sure about what you’re saying. You need to be absolutely sure because I couldn’t survive it if you weren’t. My heart couldn’t take it.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie whispered. “So sure, Richie. I… I love you.”

Richie let out a shuddering breath, then cupped Eddie’s scarred cheek in his free hand and tilted his head back. “I love you, too,” he said. “Always have. All my life, Eddie…” 

Richie’s lips hovered against his own, and Eddie warred between the need to finally close the distance and the desire to still stay in the magical moment that usually precedes the first kiss.

“Eds…” Richie whispered, and Eddie nodded. “You’re… Uhm… For sure not the clown, right?”

“Shut the fuck up, moron,” Eddie said before locking his lips with Richie’s and finally silencing him.

*

Eddie was lying naked on his back on the hotel bed, with his knees spread and up to his chest, and Richie’s head bobbing between his legs. Richie was sucking his cock with abandon, teasing him and seemingly cataloguing Eddie’s reactions so he could repeat the actions that brought him more pleasure, and had two of his lubed up fingers buried deep inside Eddie.

The position alone, Eddie thought, should have made him feel exposed, vulnerable, even ashamed. Instead, Eddie felt cherished, worshipped, adored. Most of all, he felt safe.

“Richie…” Eddie moaned, head thrown back and mouth open in ecstasy. “Right there…”

Richie obliged, fingers playing inside Eddie’s ass and rubbing against the spot that made his vision go white, and tongue relentlessly licking the vein on the underside of Eddie’s cock.

Richie hummed around the head of Eddie’s cock and some of his saliva dripped down to Eddie’s balls making him shiver.

“Please… Need to…”

The pressure against his prostate increased and Richie took all of Eddie’s length in, swallowing around the head of his cock. As soon as he could feel the edge of Richie’s glasses against his skin – Richie resolutely refused to take off his glasses because, he said, he would hate to miss the show – Eddie came with a suffocated scream and arched his back against the pleasure. His legs shook, his hands gripped Richie’s hair, and Eddie rode out what was the best orgasm he’d experienced his whole life.

“Richie…” He croaked out, and Richie gently removed his fingers from Eddie’s hole – making him instantly mourn their loss – and let his cock pop out of his mouth.

“Yeah. Yes, Eddie…”

“You… Now, you… Come on me… All over me, Rich…”

Richie whimpered, sat up on his knees between Eddie’s still obscenely open legs and frantically pumped his own dick. Eddie lowered his feet until they touched the sheets and bracketed Richie’s hips with his legs. 

“Give it to me, love. You were so good to me, so so good, Richie. Let me see you now… Come on.”

Richie moaned loudly and kept his eyes fixed on Eddie. His cock looked painfully hard and it was so big. Eddie was sure it would feel amazing to have it inside himself, even if he was a bit worried it would take time before he would feel comfortable enough to attempt it. Still, Richie had already assured him he would be perfectly happy to bottom for Eddie until he was ready to switch, so Eddie knew he could keep enjoying Richie’s fingers and work his way up for now.

“You’re so big, Richie… Fuck, your dick’s so big. So fucking hot.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah, Richie,” Eddie smiled. Richie was uncharacteristically silent during sex. It was almost as if he was too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought and Eddie found it extremely endearing. He himself had never been very talkative in bed, but Richie’s stuttered words made him want to be the one to fill the silence.

“Gonna… Uh… Eds… I’m gonna…”

“Yes. Do it, Richie. Do it for me, make me see how gorgeous you are when you come for me. Come all over me, prove I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Richie whispered, awed. “Ed-Eddie!” 

When his orgasm hit, Richie bent over Eddie, mouth open in a silent scream and hand working furiously to squeeze out every drop from his cock. As soon as the aftershocks let him breathe, Richie collapsed on Eddie and started kissing every bit of him that he could reach.

Eddie held him tight and turned his head so that they could kiss properly. They exchanged lazy, breathless kisses for a while, then Eddie started pushing Richie off claiming he was too heavy. Truthfully, Eddie loved being crushed under Richie’s weight and he knew that was a venue that needed further exploring. For the moment, though, the cooling semen on his abdomen and chest was making him uncomfortable enough to table that in favor of a shower.

*

Eddie’s flight was late in the evening so, after having breakfast with the Losers – all of them smugly looking at Eddie and Richie and offering variations of ‘fucking finally, you two’ as a comment – and seeing them off, he and Richie went back to Eddie’s hotel room so that he could pack.

It was decided that Eddie would check out of the room and then go back to Richie’s place to spend the day with him until he had to head for the airport and go back to New York.

“I did tell you that you should have stayed with me in the first place, Eds,” Richie grumbled. “Between Bill’s guest rooms and mine no one had to stay at a hotel!”

“Yes, well, that wasn’t really feasible, was it? You know Audra still has a bit of trouble having us around. Except you for some reason…”

Richie grinned. “No one can resist me, Eds. Ask your…”

“If you say my mother, I swear to god!”

Richie chuckled.

“Anyway,” Eddie glared. “As I was saying, Bill didn’t want any awkwardness in his house, and I didn’t want to… Well, you know I thought that you… Ehm…”

“What? That I would be fucking my boyfriend while you were sleeping peacefully in the guest room? So kinky of you, Spagheds. Tell me more,” Richie winked.

“Shut up. Don’t call me that. And it wasn’t kinky, Richard. It was…”

“What? It was what, Edward?”

“Distressing,” Eddie murmured, folding a shirt before putting it back in his suitcase. He picked up a sweater and busied himself with packing to avoid looking at Richie.

Richie got up off the bed and went to stand behind Eddie. He hugged him so the Eddie’s back was flush against his chest, and whispered in his ear.  
“I’m sorry. There’s no one else, Eds. Not for me. There never was. One night stands, a couple of friends with benefits over the years – though they were more _acquaintances_ with benefits to be fair – and a girlfriend who ended up hating my guts. No one even remotely important. No one but you, Eddie my love.”

Eddie dropped the sweater he’d been holding and turned in Richie’s arms. He let himself be kissed and relaxed against Richie.

“No one but you for me, either,” Eddie said, and Richie smiled. “You, and the Losers, you’ve been the only real friends… The only family I’ve ever known.”

“Me too.” Richie frowned when Eddie skeptically cocked his head at that. “What’s that look for?”

“You have people, Rich. I saw them. At the theatre? You were surrounded by friends…”

“Friends? No, Eddie. All those people… Yeah, they know my stage persona and they might be fun to hang with for a while, but friends? No way. Nothing like you and the others. They could never even remotely compare,” Richie said, earnestly, and Eddie felt a little bit ashamed by his assumptions. “And yes, okay I have Steve, and he could give Went a run for his money when it comes to being my dad; and I also have Bridget back – thanks to Steve’s interference I might add – and especially Emma. But the Losers are still my family. _You_ are still my chosen family, Eds… Don’t you know that?”

“I do. Fuck, Rich, I’m sorry. Of course, I do,” Eddie went on tiptoes and took Richie’s mouth in a deep kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Richie whispered on his lips. He held Eddie tight and sighed, “I don’t want you to leave. Eds… Don’t go back. Stay with me…”

“Richie…”

“No, I…” Richie released Eddie and took a step back. Eddie instantly missed him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s too soon and you have a life in New York; and I have things to do after this show, and also…”

“Richie!” Eddie interrupted. “I have to go back tonight. I have to. There’s things that need to be taken care of and I still need to work out my two weeks’ notice.”

“Your what?” Richie gaped.

“I hate being a risk analyst. I’m good at it, it made me incredibly wealthy, but I fucking hate it. Even after the expenses for the divorce, thanks to a iron-clad prenup, I’m still pretty well off and I can afford to take a year off while I decide what else I want to do with my life. I was thinking something with cars…” Eddie explained.

“There’s… Uhm… There’s cars here in LA, too,” Richie offered, still baffled and visibly struggling to believe what he was hearing.

“You don’t say,” Eddie smiled. “Well then, that seals it I think. There are cars in LA, _you_ are in LA, I might as well move here, don’t I?”

“You… uh… You mean it?”

“Yes, you idiot. I mean it. Now why don’t you let me finish packing so you can take me to _our_ house and I can get an idea of exactly how much work it will take to make it livable for a normal human being with basic hygiene skills?”

Smiling, Eddie turned and calmly started to fold the sweater again. Merely a second later, he found himself spun around, thrown on the bed, and smothered by a weeping, six foot tall idiot who lay over him.

Eddie was finally home.


End file.
